The Sandbox
by FluffyBlackKitten
Summary: A bit sad. A bit sweet. Implied time travel. Will be a "series" of one-shots in the same universe.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

**The Sandbox**

In Which Harry is Seven

::

"_But Mum!"_ Dudley screeched, stamping his foot roughly on the linoleum.

"Now, now Duddykins, Mummy won't let him interfere with your fun in London today. I'll even take you out for ice cream. Maybe Piers can come along too," Petunia cooed. The promise of ice cream seemed to calm Dudley's temper, and Harry noted a wicked gleam in his eyes that wasn't there before.

Dudley appeased, Petunia turned her attention to Harry. "Boy, weed the garden until it's time to go. Hurry up!" she snapped, clapping her hands to hurry him along. Harry shuffled out the back door and over to the flowerbeds. Harry never really minded weeding the garden. No one bothered him while he worked, and he was able to spend time outside his cupboard. Not even Dudley mocked him.

The sun beat down on the back of his neck, and Harry felt the sweat slipping down between his shoulder blades and onto his temples. He made it through the tulips, profusion zinnias and purple wave petunias before it was time to go. Harry shuffled back into the house and washed his hands and face before Petunia was shrieking at him to get out of the house and into the car _now!_

The car trip went as expected. Dudley took great joy in tormenting Harry, and Piers sniggered right along with him every time Dudley jabbed Harry in the ribs with his elbow. Harry cried out at one particularly harsh blow, and Petunia hissed at him to, "_Be quiet." _The rest of the trip Harry did his best to ignore Dudley and Piers, and instead tried to imagine pictures in the clouds. He spotted a cat with glasses, a giant man on a tiny motorcycle, and a dragon all formed from fluffy white vapor high above the earth.

Finally they pulled up to the fun park. "We're here boys. Have fun, I'll be running errands until 4:00 and be back here to pick you up before closing." Petunia said, fussing over Dudley. She fondly brushed the hair from his eyes. "Here's some money for lunch and admission," handing Dudders a wad of cash. "Be good, stay together and don't talk to strangers!" she called after the boys as they waddled away.

"Now," she said, rounding on Harry. "_You, _stay out of trouble, no funny business! Be here at 4:00. _Don't _wander off!" Harry nodded vigorously, and, with that, she got back in the car and drove away, leaving Harry standing by himself outside the fun park.

With Petunia gone, Harry wandered over to the fence, and pressed his nose against the wires. Children were running back and forth with parents in tow, others were lining up to ride the latest attraction, _Cliffhanger_. A part of him wished he was one of those children, stuffing himself with popcorn and cotton candy, the other part of him had given up ever being one of them. At least he wasn't stuck with Mrs. Figg looking at pictures of cats.

Harry eventually tired of watching other children having fun while he was stuck outside the gates alone, and went exploring in the direction of some older buildings across the parking lot. One dilapidated building in particular caught his attention, as it possessed a rusty swing set and an older, but still clean, sandbox in the front yard. Harry glanced about, looking for any adults that might tell him to leave, before opening the gate and wandering inside.

Two of the swings were broken, but the third looked useable and so Harry hopped on and started propelling himself higher and higher, swinging his feet to gain momentum. His head reached the point where it was even with the bar above, and Harry let out a peal of joyous laughter. The cool wind was stinging his cheeks, and the blood was pumping hard and fast through his veins. He felt alive.

After a while, Harry stopped swinging his legs until the swing came to a stop naturally. He stayed seated listening to the screams of happy children at the fun park, wishing he wasn't banished to a shabby, neglected playground all by himself. Wishing there was someone he could call a friend.

Harry pushed these thoughts away and walked over to the sandbox. Dudley never allowed him to play in the sandbox when he was at school, chasing him away when he tried, while he and his friends built sand castles, moats, and forts. The one time Harry built a castle of his own, Dudley came over and stomped all over it.

He sat down on the edge of the sandbox, pulling his shoes off and working his toes deep into the sand. It was hard to do. The sand was older and clumped in places, dark, like it had gotten wet and dried many times without being moved. Still, to Harry it was perfect. An older bucket lay forgotten, half buried, and Harry dug it out and started to pile sand inside to make a castle. He worked diligently, piling sand inside, then overturning the bucket to create towers, digging a moat, and finally forming a wall connecting everything together.

As he sat and stared at his completed masterpiece, Harry started to cry. Even though he was alone, probably forgotten about by his family, this had been one of the best days of his life. He never was allowed to have this much fun, Dudley or one of his friends was always there to ruin it for him.

He reached down and picked up a large handful of sand, staring into it hard as it ran between his fingers, the tears drying on his cheeks. The only thing that would have made this day better was having someone to share it with.

As he watched the sand fall from between his fingers it glowed, then changed to a soft golden color. Harry looked around wildly, hoping no one, especially his Aunt Petunia, had seen him doing his "funny business." He was out of luck. A boy his age was staring at him with huge, round eyes.

"Who're you?" the boy asked suspiciously.

"My name is Harry. I was just building a castle." The boy looked to the sandbox, where there was indeed a castle.

"Oh. How did you just appear here? You weren't here a second ago! Are you new?"

"Uh, new for what? My cousin and his friend are at the fun park, but I wasn't allowed to go," said Harry.

"Fun park?"

"Yeah, the-" Harry looked out the gates of the yard, but there was no fun park waiting for him across the parking lot. Where it should have been was a large empty field. "Wha-?" He got up and ran in the direction of the gates. "What happened? Where's the park?" he asked wildly.

"There's never been a park there," said the boy, who had followed him.

Harry started shaking. He knew he sometimes did funny things, but he'd never made an entire park with people disappear before. The tears from earlier returned easily, and he sniffled.

"Ugh, don't cry. Only babies cry," the boy said disgustedly.

"But I made my family disappear!" he said, wiping the tears on his grubby, oversized sleeve.

"Don't be ridiculous, you can't make things disappear," the boy sneered at him.

"Sometimes I do," Harry sniffled. "Funny things always happen to me."

The boy looked skeptical for a moment before his eyes widened. "Like what?" he asked excitedly. "Can you talk to snakes?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe. But once I turned my teacher's hair blue. And another time I shrunk my cousin's jumper." He gave another big sniff. "That's why my family hated me."

The boy sneered again, this time not directed at him. "We're better than them. We're special."

Harry finally stopped crying and looked up at the boy. "We? You mean you can do things too?"

"Of course. We're better, Harry." The boy turned to face him. "My name is Tom, by the way. You can stay here with me. I think we'll be great friends." And he smiled.

_fin_

A/N: If people like this, I may write a sequel or something. Let me know if you'd like that.


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